


Hell Comes in Many Forms.

by BarPurple



Series: Deca'verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Character, Demon Dean, Gen, Innuendo, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Past Torture, Post Season 9, original demon character - Freeform, season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:46:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to clean up the mess left behind by Abaddon and entertaining the only Knight of Hell; is it any wonder Crowley wants to indulge in his favourite whiskey? That's not too much to ask; is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prank Wars are Hell.

It hadn’t even been a week since Dean Winchester woke up as a demon and Crowley was already cursing the Mark of Cain, the First Blade and the Winchester forefathers back to the year dot. It had been a rough few days to say the very least.

Hell might not be complicated, but dealing with a powerful new demon with a puerile sense of humour that would embarrass most four year olds was very complicated. Crowley had to wonder how Moose hadn’t killed his elder brother years ago. Dean took obscene delight in pranking the morons Crowley had working for him. To be honest the King of Hell could see the appeal; a sense of humour wasn’t standard issue for your run of the mill demon so the victims of Dean’s gags just didn’t understand what was happening to them. Squirrel crowed with glee at the look of dumb confusion on the face of the first demon he caught in a Devil’s Trap. Demonic laughter echoing around Hell was one thing, but this wasn’t right or proper. For one thing it was supposed to be demons laughing at the suffering of souls not giggling at each other. Crowley had gotten used to finding his hapless employees confined in various locations. He tended to leave them there until they remembered that they could manipulate the fabric of Hell and free themselves. Idiots.

To be honest Crowley was finding it all a little entertaining, until Dean got bored of easy marks and decided to target him instead. He coped with his ringtone changing to classic rock. His office furniture being relocated to the ceiling was fixed with a click of his fingers. He even took his suit becoming plaid in his stride. It wasn’t until Dean changed his Craig into vinegar that Crowley lost his temper, but that was how he discovered something rather interesting. 

He decided Dean needed serious payback for messing with a man’s drink; what better way to do that than take a page out the denim clad nightmare’s own playbook? Crowley set the Devil’s Trap under his own chair and hollered for Dean. As expected the pain in the arse appeared in Crowley’s chair with his feet up on the desk and a cocky grin on his face. 

“Messing with my Craig? Really?”

“Don’t be a whiny bitch Crowley. All’s fair in love and prank wars.”

“I should smite your sorry arse for this one.”

As predicted Dean rose to the bait and his feet. Crowley’s look of surprise was hopefully interpreted as one of nervous fear as Dean walked away from the desk and got right into the King of Hell’s face.

“Let’s get something straight Crowley. We’re not working the Feudal System here. This knight does not kowtow to the King. Got it?”

Crowley’s eyebrows quirked at that comment and he found himself momentarily distracted from his discovery.

“You know what the Feudal System is? Those million schools you went to as a kid must have been better than I gave them credit for.”

“Learnt that from Live Action Role Play actually.”

Crowley shook his head.

“I don’t even want to know that is. I know the waiting is annoying, but I didn’t make the rules on this one. We have to wait until the right point in the lunar cycle to perform the ritual. Until then can we agree that my liquor cabinet is off limits for pranking?”

Dean shrugged and huffed out a breath.

“Yeah, okay it was a bit of a low blow. Funny though.”

Dean stepped away from Crowley and lounged against the desk staring at the King of Hell thoughtfully. Crowley was fighting to keep his eyes away from his chair and the Devil’s Trap concealed underneath it. He didn’t want to tip Dean off to this particular facet of his new persona. Had he even noticed there was a trap there? No time to ponder the questions that were bubbling up in his mind Squirrel was yammering at him.

“I get that Abaddon maxed out Hell’s quota by calling in your deals early, but why can’t you just let some souls out to even things up?”

Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was deeply unfair that as King of Hell he had no higher power to appeal to in times of frustration.

“Hell is not designed to let souls go. It’s bad for business. Besides the souls are earmarked for Hell; if we let them go they just come back.”

“You could always let me gank a bunch of demons. They’d go to Purgatory. Problem solved.”

“No. Problem not solved at all. Were you even listening to me when I explained this the first time?”

“Sorry what? I wasn’t listening.”

It was hard to tell which was louder; Crowley’s teeth grinding or his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. Sod a higher power, right now Crowley was willing to break Dean’s neck with his own two hands. It might not kill him, but it would be oh so very satisfying. Schooling himself not to lose his temper Crowley spoke as calmly as he could.

“Abaddon’s little trick has unbalanced the fabric of Hell. I told her she would burn, but its Hell that’s burning out of control. The actual Hellfire is escaping because she cheated. This place is going to Earth in a hand basket and that is a problem, because once enough of Hell is relocated then the Cage will open and your good friend and mine the Morning Star will walk the Earth. Now last time I checked that’s something we don’t want. Yes?”

“Yeah, we’re still on the same page for that one.”

“Good. So in a few more days we can do the ritual and balance the books on Hell again. Until then if you can keep your fun times away from my Craig I’ll be thrilled to bloody bits.”

“I still don’t get this. You sounded so done with all of this; ready to go howl at the moon, but here you are trying to fix it. Why?”

Crowley’s shoulders sagged a little. Dean was right; he’d wanted to walk away from all this management stuff and have some fun. His head felt cloudy and that wasn’t pleasant. He had a plan when he pressed the First Blade into Dean’s fist; he’d known what he wanted to do and he was doing it. Wasn’t he? Yes, yes this had to be done; it was the only way to go. There was a note of tiredness in his voice as he said;

“It helps if there’s a moon left to howl at Squirrel. Hell on Earth would be a bit of a busman’s holiday for me.”

“Makes sense, the only Hell on Earth should be the kind we raise, yeah?”

With that the new Knight of Hell sauntered out of Crowley’s office and headed off to do whatever it was he did when he wasn’t annoying the daylights out of demons. It took Crowley a second to recall what he had thought so important a moment ago. His brain was foggy and for the moment he put that down to withdrawal from human blood; maybe he should just keep shooting up with the stuff. He gave his head a vicious shake and remembered the Devil’s Trap.

Crowley wandered over to his chair and rolled it away from the desk. The Devil’s Trap was there and he knew it was perfectly drawn. How had Dean Bloody Winchester just strolled out of it like it was nothing? He was a demon now so the Trap should have worked. Even if Dean had worked out it was there and manipulated it in some way Crowley should have spotted it. He began to doubt that he drawn it correctly. Well there’s one way to test that.

“Una!”

Crowley’s personal assistant was one of Hell’s brightest demons; not much ambition thank sin, but smarter than all the other chuckleheads he was forced to deal with. She came into the office quickly and raised enquiring eyebrows at her boss. Being careful to stay outside the trap beneath his chair Crowley motioned for her to sit down.

“Come on dear take a load off.”

Reluctantly she sat down.

“Aha, Devil’s Trap. Our resident prankster is enjoying himself again.”

With a wave of her hand she melted the floor slightly and distorted the trap before standing up and walking to the other side of the desk.

“Was there anything else, sir?”

Crowley was tapping a finger against his teeth, his eyes still fixed on the site of the Devil’s Trap.

“Yes, I need to go Upstairs. Can you keep the plaid joker occupied for a while? I’d rather he didn’t know I’d gone anywhere.”

Una sighed, but gave her boss a cheery smile.

“It’s easy enough to keep him busy. Demons to prank, or failing that I’ll take him to a strip club.”

“That’s my girl. What would I do without you Una?”

“Kill all of your underlings in a fit of rage?”

“Most likely. Run along now dear. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Once the door was closed behind Una Crowley took a battered book from a hidden drawer in his desk. Dean had made Moose off limits and Crowley wasn’t going to risk getting caught in that bloody bunker again, so unfortunately he was going to have to use a middle man. He disappeared from his office only to pop back a second later to pick up an umbrella that had materialised on his desk. It was always best to be prepared and it wasn’t as if he could expect a warm welcome where he was heading.


	2. Never Pull a Tiger by the Tail.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley makes a house call.

Crowley arrived at his destination and took a deep breath. His head felt clearer than it had in days and that was troubling. He was beginning to get the annoying feeling that his actions of late weren’t entirely his own. That was going to need some considering, but for now he needed to get this book delivered. He blew out a breath as he squared his shoulders a final check of his top pocket and with the umbrella ready in his hand he knocked at the door.

From behind the very solid door Crowley caught the sound of footsteps and the scrap of a peephole cover being moved. There was a moment’s pause, as if someone was doing a double take; then came the sound of swearing. The person must have been quite loud as Crowley clearly heard several unflattering speculations about his person. He braced himself as he heard the sounds of bolts being drawn back.

Even though he was expecting it, Crowley only just got his umbrella open in time to stop the stream of holy water that was fired from a super soaker at him. He quickly pulled his white handkerchief from his breast pocket and waved it around the side of the defensively held umbrella.

“TRUCE! PARLEY!”

As cautiously as he could while maintaining some dignity Crowley peered around his umbrella and came face to face with a furious Linda Tran. The super soaker was aimed at his face, but for the moment she wasn’t firing. Her voice was eerily calm as she spoke;

“Leave. Now.”

“I need your help.”

The spray of water hit Crowley square in the face. As his skin burned under the holy water he tried to bite back the curses that sprang to his lips. With a groan he shook his head and healed his meat suit. The burns sizzled and popped as they shrank and vanished. Mrs Tran watched the process with disinterest, she repeated with the same level calm;

“Leave. Now.”

Before Crowley could try to plead his case again a figure came into view behind Mrs Tran. Crowley’s eyebrows jumped as he recognized Kevin, former prophet of the Lord and, well former living human being. The instant that Kevin spotted Crowley everything went crazy.

Amid flickering lights and gushing air Crowley found himself being dragged through the open door; right into the waiting Devil’s Trap. Perfect.

“Kevin?”

“I’m okay Mom. I’ve got it.”

The wind suddenly dropped and the lamps settled to a steady glow as if there had been no interruption to their light. Even confined in a Devil’s Trap after receiving a face full of holy water Crowley couldn’t resist having a little dig at Kevin.  
“You’re looking well Kevin. I mean apart from the being dead thing.”

Kevin gave him a slight smile and shook his head.

“You’re still a dick Crowley. What do you want?”

“What no chit-chat? Nothing you feel the need to get of your chest? Come on I’m stuck in this itty bitty Devil’s Trap and you’re a super charged Casper. No vengeance you want to hurl at me?”

The lights gave the tiniest of flickers, but Crowley’s face didn’t get a chance to form into his usual smug grin. The shock of a bullet entering your back tends to throw anyone off kilter. This time he didn’t hold back with the cursing.

“Kevin doesn’t need to go vengeful on you Crowley. Not when I’m here and have so much more to be pissed at you for.”

Crowley turned slowly in the confines of the Trap and looked with undisguised awe at Mrs Tran. In her hand was the still smoking pistol.

“You are magnificent, but should we really be flirting in front of the young lad?”

Kevin snorted and Mrs Tran re-aimed the pistol quite a lot lower than Crowley’s shoulder.

“I hear you sold your soul for an extension downstairs. Did it transfer over to this meat suit, or will I need a telescopic sight for my next shot?”

The King of Hell’s grin got wider; Linda Tran truly was a firecracker. It made him all tingly to think of the things he could to do to her. Such a shame he did take advantage when she was enjoying his hospitality. Oh well, no point in crying over missed opportunities.

“At any other time I would happily take this foreplay to its happy ending, but I’m rather pressed for time and I really do just need your help.”

For a long drawn out second Crowley thought his family jewels might end up getting cosy with hot lead, but the shot didn’t come. 

“Talk fast Crowley and keep the sass to yourself.”

“I need you to deliver something to Moose for me.”

Kevin looked as if he was waiting for more from Crowley. There was a strange moment where the two of them communicated in only exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures. Finally Kevin spoke;

“What, that’s it? You want us to play FedEx because you don’t want to go back to the Bunker?”

“Well, it’s not like I have fond memories of the place…”

The lights gave an ominous flicker and a whoosh of cold air shivered through the hall. Kevin took a deep breath that he didn’t really need and said in a very calm level tone;

“You think I want to go back there? I died there. I’m dead, that means I’m out of the whole demon, angel, and monster crap that makes up your world.”

Crowley’s eyes rolled dramatically.

“You died. Oh boo-hoo. That doesn’t let you out of this life. How many times do you think the Winchesters have died? I’ve bloody died. It doesn’t make you special in this world and this is still your world Prophet. It’s no fun, but this is what you’ve got, so suck it up and help you bloody friends out!”

“And I should do this because you say it’s important?”

“Yes. You don’t believe me. When have I ever lied to you Kevin?”

“You weren’t exactly free and easy with the truth Crowley. Lies of omission are still lies you know!”

“Kevin. He’s not worth it.”

Mrs Tran’s voice held just the slightest hint of fear. As Kevin’s anger with Crowley rose there were more signs that her son was no longer among the living. The pictures on the walls were rattling gently and the drapes were being ruffled by unseen fingers. Kevin took another deep metaphorical breath and nodded at his mother.

“We’ll do it. Leave the package in the trap. Mom will let you out and then I want you out of our sight, because next time I see you I will let my vengeance have free rein.”

Crowley carefully did as he was bid and place the tattered book on the floor at his feet. Mrs Tran edged forward and broke the Devil’s Trap with the heel of her shoe. Crowley gave her a mocking bow and walked out of the door. On the threshold he turned and softly said;

“If you really want to bitch at someone for lies of omission, talk to Moose. You might have lived longer if he didn't play his cards so close to his vest.”

With that Crowley vanished. Mrs Tran sagged against the door as she closed and locked it. The tension draining from her body left her trembling. Kevin tried to comfort her and the frustration that he couldn’t give his mother a simple hug twisted his features into a mask of anguish.

Linda Tran dug into her incredible inner strength and pulled herself up right. Kevin smiled as his mother suddenly looked so much taller than her actual five foot two.

“Come on then, Kevin. Over the rainbow to Kansas we go.”


	3. Highway to Hell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean explores.

Dean left Crowley’s office and strolled through the winding corridors that made up large parts of Hell. Pulling pranks on demons was just a minor distraction for him. It had started because of one nosey black eyed jerk that kept following Dean around like a lost puppy. It wasn’t like Dean was being secretive about his exploration of Hell, but he didn’t want to be followed around by an idiot fanboy. To be honest he hadn’t been sure if a Devil’s Trap would work in Hell, so when the jerk got stuck Dean had let out a whoop of laughter and clapped his hands like a little kid. After that it was just too much fun not to leave traps around for the unsuspecting employees of Hell.

The fabric of Hell was malleable; even low level demons could affect their surroundings, so could the souls of the damned; the worst tortures were often the ones lost souls inflicted on themselves. There was a basic structure to the place that didn’t or wouldn’t change. The areas that Crowley had stamped his personality on were obvious. Bland beige corridors lit by buzzing fluorescent tubes filled with crackling piped muzak where the damned waited and waited and waited. Dean had to give a grudging credit to Crowley; the limey sod knew what he was doing when it came to crushing souls en mass. 

Dean tended to avoid what he thought of as Crowley-land; the mind-numbing sterile corporate style reminded him too much of every hospital he’d ever been in. He walked through a low doorway and found familiar racks. The chains, blades and blood dragged up memories of the thirty years that Alistair ripped him apart on a daily basis. He idly batted at the hanging chains and wondered why he wasn’t reacting emotionally to them. He sniffed and wiped the gore from his hands, there was nothing interesting here. He turned to leave and almost bumped into the demon that was pushing a soul towards the rack. The balding middle aged man was sobbing and struggling, as he saw Dean he grabbed at him broken, begging pleas babbling from his bloody mouth. Dean calmly took hold of the man’s wrist and twisted it free from his shirt. He felt the bones grind and snap under the pale, podgy flesh as he shoved the man back towards the demon. This demon strength was awesome! Dean walked away from the laughing demon and the gibbering wreck of a soul.

The pleasant buzz he had going on put him in mind of how he felt after eating Dick Roman’s turducken burger. Whereas the Leviathan gloop had filled him with a lethargic apathy this buzz was an excited anticipation thrumming through his veins. Something great was coming and Dean was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Dean wandered on through corridors that looked like they had been lifted from a medieval castle. He was humming an ACDC song to himself as he explored. Deep, deep in the depths of Hell a fallen angel turned to his brother and said;

“See what has become of Heaven’s Righteous Man? How polluted your true vessel has become? This is what humanity has done with our Father’s gift of free will.”

The rage was plain on Michael’s face as he nodded in reply.

“Such corruption does not deserve to survive. I agree to your plan, brother. We will stand side by side and cleanse Earth of humanity.”

Lucifer smiled as he extended his hand to Michael. 

“Shoulder to shoulder with my brother; just as it should be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard 600 words to write. I hope you got through it okay. I've up the rating to mature as a caution because of Dean's actions in this chapter.
> 
> Demon Dean is not easy to write and I got caught up in try to get the character right, so if you've spotted a mistake let me know and I'll fix it.


	4. Hell is other People…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Men of Letter's gathered a huge collection of supernatural knowledge, so would a comprehensive index been out of the question?

Sam dumped the stack of books on the table and stretched. His back cracked and popped in protest at his movements. He’d spent hours working through the archives today looking for any mention of the Mark of Cain. He’d done the same yesterday and the day before and the day before that. In fact this was all he’d done for the past week. As he tried to roll the stiffness out of his shoulders he ran his hands through his hair. His lip curl in disgust as his fingers pulled out the cobwebs and dust bunnies that had hitched a free ride from the storage room. Sam wiped his hands on his dusty shirt and flopped into a chair. He gave the new stack of books a weary look and dropped his head on to his arms with a deep groan.

“You need to sleep Sam.”

The hunter raised his head and was met with the glorious sight of food and a large coffee. Sam laughed bitterly at Castiel’s suggestion and reached for the coffee. He took a large gulp of from the steaming cup and instantly spat it back into the cup.

“Cas! What is this?”

“It’s decaf, Sam. You need to sleep.”

Sam tried to fire a bitchface at Cas, but the effect was hampered by a huge yawn. Cas stood by with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, but didn’t say anything. Even in the face of this angelic mothering Sam tried to make himself sound awake.

“I’ll sleep better once we’ve found something useful, Cas. We’re sitting on the largest collection of supernatural knowledge in the world, there’s got to be something useful here somewhere.”

The angel nodded in agreement as he placed his hand on the top of Sam’s head. The exhausted Winchester instantly fell asleep and Cas gently guided his head down on to the table top. It wasn’t an ideal place for Sam to catch up on sleep, but it would have to do for now.

 

\---{}---

 

The late afternoon sun filtered softly through the leaves of the maple tree, casting dappled shadows across the picnic blanket. Soft rock music drifted from his iPod hushed by the light breeze. Sam was stretched out, his head in Amelia’s lap as she played lazily with his hair. He felt comfortably lazy and more relaxed than he had in a long while, though he couldn’t recall what had been stressing him out. It couldn’t have been that important he decided as he caught Amelia’s hand and tenderly kissed her palm.

“Are you happy, Sam?”

“Very. You?”

“I am.”

She chuckled as Dog came bounding up flopped down next to Sam. The mutt nuzzled head next to Sam’s face.

“Where’ve you been, hey Dog? You been chasing squirrels again? Have you?”

Dog’s enthusiastic response was to lick at Sam’s face. He laughed and tried to push the mutt away, but Dog was determined to slobber all over his master’s face.

“Easy Dog! What’s gotten into you boy? Stop it Dog.”

As he tried to sit up to slow Dog’s drool attack Sam became aware of something hard under his hands and pressed into his chest. The disorientation caused him to panic. He tried to push Dog away and the park faded around him.

“Amelia! Dog stop it, stop it Dog!”

“His name’s Toto not Dog.”

“What?”

Sam opened his eyes and found himself nose to nose with a small black dog, who yapped at him before trotting away across the table top. Puzzled Sam sat up and focused on another confusing sight. It took him a moment to make sense of what, or rather who, he was seeing.

“Charlie! Dorothy!”

“What’s the skinny Sammy boy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The soft rock playing on Sam's iPod during his dream is 'Crash' by Scott Stapp, which I think has perfect lyrics for Sam and his unicorn.


	5. …except when it isn’t.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds a glimmer of hope.

Sam staggered to his feet and pulled Charlie and Dorothy into a massive hug. Castiel smiled at the look of relief on the hunter’s face, it was an emotion the angel shared; they needed all the help they could get right now and maybe with more humans around it would be easier to make Sam take care of himself properly. As if they had heard his thoughts Charlie and Dorothy both pushed Sam away.

“Dude you are ripe! When was the last time you showered?”

Charlie’s tone held only concern as she looked the lanky man over with a critical eye. Dorothy was doing the same and added;

“Or slept in a bed or had a proper meal? Sam you look like crap.”

Sam ineffectively brushed at the dust and grim on his shirt front and realized just how filthy he was; he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment  
.  
“I guess it’s been about a week. Cas has been bringing me food and stuff.”

For the first time the women noticed the angel, who had been sitting in the shadows. He rose to his feet slowly and moved closer to the group. The smile of greeting faltered and his waving hand stuttered to an awkward halt as he saw the frown on Charlie’s face.

“You’re Cas? Castiel; the angel who let the Leviathans out.”

Charlie’s tone was flat and even the social inept angel could detect the anger that lay just under the surface. He was puzzled as to how this woman knew about the Leviathans. Sam caught his look of confusion and supplied;

“Charlie was the reason we were able to take Dick Roman down, Cas. She knows all about the Leviathans and she’s a pretty good hunter.”

“I saw my boss get eaten and got a broken arm. I had to go on the run and hide to stay safe.”

Cas looked distraught at Charlie’s words, but he pulled his tie almost straight and stood in front of her.

“I can’t take away the pain you endured because of my actions, but I will accept your punishment without complaint or retaliation.”

With that he clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward and presented his jaw, fully expecting Charlie to land a punch there.

For a long moment Sam honestly though Charlie was going to thump the angel. He winced when she landed a ringing slap on Castiel’s face. He took a hesitant step forward to pull Charlie back, but Dorothy put a hand on his arm and gave a slight shake of her head. Sam was puzzled, but decided to let this play out. Only Dorothy was unsurprised when the red head stepped forward and planted a gentle kiss on Castiel’s cheek. 

“I forgive you. Letting the Leviathans out was a seriously dumb move, but it’s what started me hunting and I wouldn’t change that for all the world.”

Cas gave a grateful smile and accepted Charlie’s hug. Dorothy cleared her throat.

“Right, now that’s sorted Sam hit the shower. Angel boy you’re gonna help us sort out some food, then you can catch us up on what’s got you working yourself into this state.”

Dorothy’s tone held such command that Sam found himself walking towards the bathroom before he’d really registered what he was doing. It was only Charlie’s question that caused him to stop.

“Where’s Dean?”

He looked at her sadly and bit his lip.

“You want the skinny, or you want me clean? I can’t to both at once, unless you’re going cook in the bathroom.”

Charlie pulled a face that clearly said ‘Yuk’ Sam smiled and carried on to the bathroom. The sounds of the other three bickering about what to cook and who should do what drifted down the corridor after him. Those normal everyday sounds almost made Sam cry. 

He went mechanically through the motions of showering, his mind blissful blank for the first time in a week. It wasn’t until he was pulling on a clean shirt that he snapped out of the trance like state. Dean was a demon, okay; they knew how to cure demons. His brother had fought through djinn illusions, siren’s enticements, and the anger caused by vengeful ghosts, crawled out of Hell, survived Purgatory and faced down archangels. Dean had been a vampire and come back to human. This Mark of Cain thing wasn’t even the worst thing they had faced. As he walked into the main room and saw Cas, Charlie and Dorothy putting food and coffee on the table he smiled; a genuine smile, maybe not of happiness, but there was a lot of gratefulness in his eyes. He would get Dean back and he didn’t have to do it alone.


End file.
